This Is For (T is for Timeline)
by FortySevens
Summary: A series of mostly unconnected one-shots based on self-generated 1word prompts. T is for Timeline: "...All I get from him is that constipated lemur look before he runs into the other room. It's like clockwork, dude." "It's nothing against you."


**T is for Timeline (Bucky/Darcy)**

Steve flinched as Jane heaved a heavy reference book in the air with enough force and accuracy that it clipped Tony's shoulder, and then she lifted up onto her toes, her index finger poking against his chest as she continued with her minutes-long tirade she'd been working up to the last few days.

The lab's locked glass doors muffled Jane's high voice as she pivoted away from Tony, snatching a screwdriver from the table at her side before she stomped over to her allocated corner of lab space and started fiddling with a piece of metal and wires resting on a small platform.

Movement flickered in the corner of his eye, and Steve tilted his head enough that he could see Bucky watching as Tony threw his hands up in the air before he swung one of the hanging monitors in front of him and poked at it irritably.

It was almost as if Bucky hadn't moved an inch over the last eight days, his arms still over his chest and his blue eyes narrowed to slits as he watched Jane and Tony as they worked.

The pair of scientists had been going non-stop ever since Darcy went missing.

Eight days ago, they were testing a device recovered from an abandoned Hydra outpost—one Bucky tracked and led the team to as part of his single-handed attempt to destroy anyone who had anything to do with the Winter Soldier—and Darcy got caught when it suddenly exploded.

And then she _and_ the device disappeared.

Steve wasn't sure why Bucky was standing there, still standing there, _unendingly continued to stand in that one same spot_.

He wasn't offering any explanations.

And the most baffling part was that Bucky never even _talked_ to Darcy.

**Ten Days Ago**

Darcy padded barefoot into the kitchen that morning, grinning when she saw Steve sitting at the table, but then she paused and frowned when she took in the look on his face, "You know, I'm pretty sure there's laws against Captain America looking so morose."

He snorted; finally looking up from the mug of coffee he was contemplating life, the universe, and everything into, "Good morning Darcy."

Her grin returned to its usual brightness as she made her way over to the coffeemaker, "Is everything all right?"

Steve sighed, "It's fine. Bucky's just-" he broke off and shook his head. "Never mind."

"Ah, everyone's first and-slash-or second favorite sort-of-Russian assassin," pride fluttered in her chest when the corner of Steve's mouth ticked up. "_Is_ he doing all right?"

His jaw ticked before he slowly turned in his chair and looked up at her as she leaned against the counter, "He asked me something strange last night. I don't really know what to make of it, but it's not the first time he's said something that doesn't quite make sense."

"What do you mean?"

"He asked me if there were any females on the Howling Commando team. I told him that Peggy worked with us from time to time when she wasn't stateside, but then he asked if there were ever any more. I'm just, I don't know if I even understand what he's talking about."

Darcy tilted her head, humming as she took a long sip of coffee, "His brain might still be scrambled, but at least he's asking you about the past now. Also, he's _talking_ to you period. All I get from him is that constipated lemur look before he runs into the other room. It's like clockwork, dude."

"It's nothing against you."

She waved a hand, "Hey, if it's going to help him get better, he can do whatever the hell he wants. I'm not offended that he's not ready for my awesome. It takes time for me to grow on some people."

"Like a fungus."

Her eyes lit up, "There the sassy captain we all know and love!"

**Now**

Sighing, Steve turned away from where Tony and Jane were now working together as they worked on soldering a pair of flat pieces together in attempt to recreate the device from the scans they took of it before is vanished, "Hey Bucky, you want me to get you something to eat?"

"I'm operational," he muttered, his hands flexing tighter against his arms, and Steve was pretty sure he was going to leave bruises under his long-sleeved t-shirt. "I'm _fine_ Steve."

Steve sighed again, and was about to turn toward the elevator when there was a flash and a concussive boom that threw Jane and Tony to opposite sides of the massive room, shaking the entire level.

And in the center, Steve saw two more bodies sprawled out on the floor.

"JARVIS, open the doors!"

**Somewhere Else**

"Are you ready?"

Crouching behind a bush, Darcy rubbed a hand over her dirt-streaked nose, shivering as a cold wind blew through the icy woods they were hiding in, "_So_ ready MC," she swallowed, her blue eyes flickering back and forth. "How much time do you think we have?"

"Not nearly enough, but if we don't try now, you're going to lose your chance," it was almost funny how something so dire sounded even _worse_ with a British accent. "We won't be able to keep this with us much longer, and we don't have the resources to get it back again."

Darcy glared down at the suitcase-sized bane of his existence as it rested innocently on the dirt and tree roots that were digging into her knees, "Don't I know it. Will _you_ be all right though?"

"I can handle myself just fine. We just need to focus on getting _you_ back home."

A twig snapped, and a low pop of gunfire echoed through the air, one after another after another and slowly getting louder.

"_Now_ MC!"

Darcy's companion cursed as she slapped her hand against the top of the console, and the lights on the sides light up as it whirred into a loud screech before a bang echoed through the trees.

A team of Hydra-clad commandos flooded into the clearing and a bullet whizzed past Darcy's ear before something tugged sharply at her chest, making her breath catch, and a flare of white washed over the dim gray world.

Darcy's head ached and spun and felt like it was going to split in half as she lay sprawled out across a cool, concrete surface, one arm tucked awkwardly under her body, and she groaned loudly.

Forcing her eyes open, her heart fluttered again as she recognized the familiar bottoms of the consoles in Tony's lab, "Thank god," she managed to gasp, her ears ringing as the floor tilted.

"Oh bloody _hell_ that was _awful_."

With another groan, Darcy forced her arms to take her weight as she tried to push up, "I _so_ second that MC."

Her head snapped toward the other voice, and dread pitted in her stomach as she saw her companion lying on her back, her dark brown hair half out of its bun and her chest heaving as she pressed her hands to her stomach. "Oh-oh my god, MC! _Shit!_"

Darcy's eyes crossed, but she couldn't say anything else as she pitched to the side and vomited up the remains of the meager amount of food in her stomach.

Choking on bile as she tried for force air in her lungs, Darcy fell back against the small hands that settled on her shoulders, strands of long brown hair that didn't belong to her falling against her neck, "Jane," her chest clenched hard and she coughed again. "Hi Jane. Hi, hi."

"_Darcy_," Jane squeezed tighter as she helped her sit up and scooted her away from the puddle of sick. "Are you all right?"

She tipped her head back and looked up, meeting Jane's wide-eyed gaze, "What-what," she coughed and dropped her head back down, swiping the back of her hand over her mouth. "What day is it?"

"You've been gone a little more than a week," Jane looked at the other woman as Darcy's curse echoed through the lab. "Who is-"

"_Peggy_?"

Darcy blinked the bleariness from her eyes as she looked across the lab to where Steve and Bucky were frozen in the doorway, Steve's gasp quickly followed by a similar inhalation from Tony, who looked dazed as he got up and staggered over.

The other woman braced her arm against her ribs as she slowly sat up, her eyes wide as she craned her head up at Steve, "Oh," she whispered, going very, very pale. "Oh no, my name is Margaret."

She blinked, and then coughed and ducked her head, "Captain," she added and then looked at the man standing at his shoulder. "And James. Hello."

Tony sputtered and dropped next to Darcy and Jane, his hands flying to her shoulders, "You brought someone _from the past_?" He flinched away when Jane smacked at his hands. "Do you have _any_ idea what this could do to the space-time continuum?"

Still coughing, Darcy flapped a hand as she fought to get her breath back, "_Not_ past really," she managed, pitching forward as she flapped her hand again, this time toward Margaret. "_Eh_."

"What Darcy is trying to say is that I'm not from _your_ past," she flinched and pressed her right hand to her side, looking down and finding ashes scattered by her hips. "Oh, oh dear."

"What is it?" Tony barked.

"The device," she murmured as she ran her hand through the thick gray pile, and then rubbed her fingers together. "Or what's left of it, I guess."

Darcy winced as she slumped back against Jane, "Well. Well _shit._"

Perched on one of the lab tables with her legs lazily swinging back and forth, Darcy flinched away from the beam of light shining in her eyes, "Lay off Stark, I told you, I'm _fine_."

"You threw up _in my lab_," he frowned and consulted the tablet in his hand as he finally turned the light off. "And you've lost weight. Did they not feed you wherever you were? Starving guests is rude. Hell, I didn't even starve that badly when I was in Afghanistan."

"_Why do you know how much I weigh?_"

"Darcy," Jane admonished gently, her ears ringing from the screech. "We've been very worried about you."

She pursed her lips, but let her shoulders drop, and Jane patted her shoulder before she realized just how dirty and wrinkled the clothes that were hanging off her really were, "What are you wearing?"

"My yoga pants didn't exactly blend in with World War Two-era Europe," she snapped and shared a comforting look with Margaret, who sat to Darcy's left, her hands clenched around the damp rag she used to clean off her face and hands. "She said I looked ridiculous."

Margaret winced as she glanced at Steve out of the corner of her eye, "I just didn't want the Captain getting any ideas."

"Ideas?"

Smirking, Darcy met Steve's curious gaze as Margaret ducked her head again, "Alternate-universe you isn't nearly as preciously virtuous as you are, Steve."

Bucky led out a derisive snort—the first sound he made since things settled down a little bit more, and Darcy swallowed hard as she looked at him, tried to meet his gaze, but he stalwartly looked down at his feet.

With a sigh, she turned back to Jane, "I literally do not know how I ended up where I ended up, or how eight days here translated into eight months there. Either way, so not cool."

"_Eight months?_"

Jane put her hand on her shoulder when she winced, "We're just happy you're home safe, Darcy. We'll figure everything else out in time," her hand slipped to the side with Darcy's oversized jacket, and her eyes went round. "Darcy, is that a _bullet wound_?"

She shrugged Jane's hand away and covered the recently-healed wound back up with her shirt's torn sleeve, "It's fine," she looked over Jane's shoulder again and swallowed at the lump in her throat. "Some jackass sniper shot me."

There was a crash.

Darcy looked up in time to see Bucky stare at her wide-eyed before he took a hesitant step forward, and then something in his eyes shifted and he bolted out of the lab.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she forced her gaze from the doors to Margaret, comforted a little bit that she was gaping too, "I think _that's_ the jackass sniper shot me! _Oh my god!_"

She pushed off the table, landing on unsteady feet, "I have to talk to him."

Jane caught her arm and tried to urge her back on the table, "What's going on?"

"I have to go," she yanked her arm free before looked at Margaret again. "Will you be okay?"

She waved a hand, "_Go_ to him. I can handle myself."

In a flash, Darcy was gone, and Steve turned, making to follow.

"Captain, wait."

He turned back, Jane standing awkwardly to one side as Tony looked on from Margaret's left, "What is it?"

Her hands were clasped on her lap and she picked at her thumbnail, "Captain, I do not know everything that's going on, Darcy insisted on keeping certain matters to herself, but if I'm correct, then there's definitely something you must know before you go after them."

"About what?"

"About what universe your Bucky is really from."

Heart pounding in her aching chest, Darcy ran full tilt toward the elevator at the end of the hall, her hands bracing against the closed doors, "JARVIS where is he?" She smacked a hand against the up arrow. "Can you fast-track this thing?"

Before he replied, the doors swished open and Darcy fell into the car, "Sergeant Barnes is in his apartment."

"That is definitely not the Sergeant Barnes you think he is," she muttered with a dark glare to the camera in one corner of the car as she righted herself, holding tight to the railing as it lurched.

"Ms. Lewis?"

She shook her head, "It's complicated. _So_ complicated."

The door to Bucky's apartment—the only one on that floor in case he needed to isolate himself—was hanging open and she tapped it aside, "Buck-" she coughed as she stepped into the darkened foyer. "James?"

Her reply was a heavy beat of silence, and she slowly made her way deeper inside, the layout identical to the apartment she shared with Jane—sort of, since she spent most of her time in Thor's guest suite when he was planet-side—and she found him slumped on the couch with his head in his hands.

Swallowing hard and forcing back the tears that stung her eyes, she stood frozen in the doorway, "_James_?"

He didn't look up, and his shoulders tensed.

"A long time ago, somewhere else," she squeezed her eyes shut and her voice was watery. "There was a very confused woman running around a forest in Austria."

The silence was heavy, oppressive even, before he finally shifted and let his hands slip into his hair, "And I shot her," he finally looked up, and Darcy's heart clenched in anticipation. "You know me."

"James Barnes, of course I know you," tears flooded her eyes and she swiped them away with the back of her hand. "But the kicker's that you know_ me_. You know what happened when I was over there."

"I might. I think I do."

She chewed on her lower lip, ideas flashing through her mind and hope bubbling inside her, "_How?_"

"I fell, I was dragged through the snow, and then everything went weird," he shuddered, swallowing hard as he clenched his hands into fists. "Next thing I knew, Zola was standing over me with a bone saw, but it was _wrong_."

Her stomach lurched, and she tasted bile on her tongue as James looked down at his left hand, the right rubbing at his shoulder where the metal was fused to his skin.

"They took you," she hoped more than anything, she so, so hoped. "They took you from the other side."

James stood up slowly and walked around the coffee table, but stopped short a few feet from Darcy, "There was an accident, and you came to my world," he finally managed. "We were together there for a while. You fought with us. Used what you knew of your world's war to help us fight ours."

"And we won it, too."

She nodded slowly and met his steely gaze, and then something in the air in the room shifted, and Darcy jumped up into his arms, burying her head against his neck a sobs racked her body.

His hands shook as he wrapped his arms around her, lifting Darcy so she could squeeze her legs around his hips, "You're here," she gasped against his skin. "You're really, really here."

Darcy felt him nod against her head, his body shaking as he took a step back and leaned against the wall before sliding down it, his legs sprawled out in front of him as he squeezed her tighter, "I'm right here."

Eventually her sobs died off, and she leaned back and kissed the corner of his mouth before touching her forehead to his, smiling crookedly, "I made my peace with it, you know?"

He trailed a hand over her cheek and through her hair, "With what?"

"That no matter what I did, you'd go after Zola's train with Cap. That you'd fall. That you'd-" she broke off and shook her head, her nose brushing against his. "I didn't think I'd ever see _you_ again. I almost didn't _want_ to come back here if I wasn't going to be with a James Barnes that looked at me like you did. Do. Like you're doing right now."

"I'm right here doll," he kissed her nose, and then her mouth, his tongue darting out and flicking against the curve of her lower lip. "And I'm not going anywhere. Not this time."

She forced her hand to unclench from its grip around his metal shoulder and rubbed the dark circle under his eye with her thumb, "You look terrible, but I don't think I've ever been so happy to see you."

James kissed her again, "I'm just glad _you're_ looking at _me_ like you know me now."

Gasping, her eyes lip up, and she smacked his shoulder, "That's why you kept hiding from me!"

"Killed me a little," he murmured, tucking her against him, her forehead against his neck and her hand resting lightly against his chest. "When I started to remember. When I figured out there was a reason why you looking at me how you did felt wrong."

"So you went after the device," she whispered, her fingers brushing the collar of his shirt aside so she could see the metal plating, just because she could. "I'm glad you did."

Tucking his knees up against her back, James pushed up the wall, then turned and pressed her against it, his hips grinding against hers, making her gasp, "Everyone downstairs probably wants to know what happened."

Darcy's brow ticked up as she tightened her arms around his neck, leaning over him, "MC said she'd handle it."

And she kissed him, hard and hot, her legs tight around his waist as his hands slipped up her shirt, because after everything they'd gone through, this was what mattered.

Later, James padded out of the en suite with a damp washcloth hanging from his hand, and Darcy smiled sleepily as she curled tighter around his pillow while he dragged it between her legs and over her belly.

"It's kind of like a fairy tale," she whispered, wrinkling her nose at how cheesy she sounded, James crawling back into bed, lying on his stomach and curling a heavy arm over her middle.

Snorting, he pressed his mouth to her shoulder once, and then two more times, "I'm pretty sure the people responsible for me being me don't have much to do with fairies."

She slipped down the bed a little and kissed him, urging him on his side as she threw a leg over his hip, "You're in front of me and you're _alive_," she gently stroked his cheek and then tapped his nose. "And you remember me, so I think I can tell you you're _wrong_."

"I can live with that," he kissed her again before glancing back over his shoulder for the clock that should have been on the nightstand, but was now resting on the floor next to the lamp Darcy kicked over at some point. "But we _do_ need to get up."

Letting out an overly dramatic sigh, she rolled off him and flopped back onto the pillows, but stilled when the apartment door opened with an exaggerated bang, and James reached down for the sheet lying un-tucked at the foot of the bed, handing it to Darcy.

"If you two are done having your enthusiastic reunion sex," Steve called from somewhere at the other end of the hall. "You should probably come up to the penthouse so we can talk about this."

Darcy rolled her eyes as she pulled the sheet over her chest while James got up and lifted the lamp off the floor, putting it back in place and flicking it on, "I take back what I said about your virtue Steve," she called as she scooted off the bed, the sheet dragging behind her. "I gotta shower."

"Just hurry up."

Standing in the doorway to the en suite, Darcy turned back to James, who was searching under the bed for his clothes—only to come up with a shoe and one of her old socks—and she cleared her throat when he didn't notice her looking at him.

"Yeah?"

She tilted her head, "I haven't had a real shower in _eight months_."

He grinned wide as he slowly got off the floor, standing tall as he grabbed her outstretched hand and tugged her to him, "Then we better make your first one back memorable," he murmured against her mouth as he tugged the sheet and let it fall to the floor.

Steve tucked his hands in his pockets as he got back on the elevator and waited for it to take him back to Tony's penthouse where the team plus one _Margaret Carter_ was waiting for him.

Well, waiting for Darcy and Bucky.

He snorted as he thought about the pair.

They weren't surfacing for a good, long while.

The doors opened, and Steve rolled his eyes at the expectant gazes being tossed his way from everyone but Margaret, who was more than a little skittish without Darcy at her side, which was a startling difference from the headstrong woman he remembered from his past.

"Well?" Tony demanded. "Where are they?"

"What do you think?"

Jane huffed, her hands flying over her netbook keyboard as she perched on the couch, no doubt peppering Margaret with questions while he was gone, "I have _questions_ that only she can answer!"

"Do you want to get between her and the assassin she's reuniting with?" She pursed her lips, but didn't say anything else, and he looked back at Margaret. "Do you think you can explain that again? If Darcy didn't go to the past, and I would remember if she had, how do she and Bucky know each other?"

"She was in the past in an _alternate timeline_," she corrected. "And with the way those two reacted to each other, I think that means that James is really from the world _I'm_ from."

Something in his chest went tight as he kept his gaze focused on her, "What does that mean for the Bucky from _this_ world?"

"I'm afraid I do not know, Captain."

Tony clapped his hands and stood up, "Which is why we have to wait for the lovebirds to emerge. Anyway, who wants a drink?"

Margaret raised her hand, and Jane laughed as she patted her knee and put her computer on the coffee table, "We'll take a break from interrogating you. I'm sure this is all very overwhelming."

"Oh, this is nothing remotely like an interrogation, but thank you," she squared her shoulders and turned to Steve. "You're a lot different from what I expected."

He shrugged, stepping into the sunken living area and sitting down on the recliner, "Did Darcy ever tell you anything about me and Peggy?"

"Only that she passed away recently. I'm sorry for your loss."

Steve's smile was a little misty as he recalled the day a few months before, "It was," he swallowed hard. "She was with family, was lucid enough to know she was ready to go. So that was good."

Something clanged at the bar, and all eyes turned to Tony, who took a long drink of the whiskey in his glass, "Someone has to tell Sharon."

"Who?"

With a flinch, Steve looked at Margaret, "Peggy's niece. She our liaison with the CIA."

She looked down at her hands, clasping them on her lap, "Oh."

Twenty minutes later, the elevator chimed and the doors opened to, "-and it's wonderful to see you home safe," Pepper said, and Steve looked up to see her giving Darcy a one-armed hug before she scuttled out of the elevator.

Pepper perched next to Tony, and he could hear her whisper, "Since when are Darcy and Bucky so," and then she wiggled her hand back and forth before snatching Tony's glass out of his loose grasp and sipping it.

With Tony muttering a shortened version of their afternoon to Pepper, Darcy and Bucky got off the elevator hand-in-hand, "By the way," she said as she led Bucky in and over to the sunken seating area. "I one thousand percent call not-it for telling Sharon."

"It'll get handled."

Bucky squeezed Darcy's hand and let go, making his way over to where Steve sat.

He stood slowly, "Buck?"

"James," he corrected gently, his voice quiet as everyone in the room narrowed their focus on him. "You know Hydra wouldn't have made the effort to take me from my world if they already had a man to turn into the Winter Soldier."

Steve squeezed his eyes shut for a minute before he opened them and put his hand out, "Not sure if the world's big enough for two Bucky's anyway," he grinned wryly, and after a moment's hesitation, James took the offered hand.

James matched his grin, dropping his hand and cuffing Steve's shoulder, "Probably not."

With what was probably the worst of it out of the way, Darcy walked over to Jane, swinging her arm around her shoulders and looking at Margaret, "First things first, we _need_ to take you shopping. Jane's plaid pajama collection just _isn't_ you. You know what _is_ you though? Consignment shops. Trust me on that."

Margaret paled again, and Darcy inched back a little bit, "Breathing helps. Might want to wait a day or five before we introduce you to the Internet."

"I have already become acquainted with Mister JARVIS," she leaned forward and looked at Tony. "Is he an homage to Edwin Jarvis? Howard from my world would mention him from time to time."

Tony pursed his lips, "More or less."

"So," Darcy clapped her hands together to dispel the sudden tension. "What now?"

Reaching over to the coffee table, Tony picked up a clear, square container with a collection of ashes inside and rattled it, "Well, considering the fact that this is what's left of that device, I don't think we're going to recreate it any time soon."

"I wouldn't," Margaret cleared her throat. "Nothing good can happen with that thing in the world again."

"You don't want us to try to get you back home?"

Margaret shook her head, reaching out and patting Darcy's hand, "It's not worth the risk and you know it. Anyway, if the Captain can adapt to this new era, then I have no doubt I'll be just as successful."

"Well then," Pepper stood up and held her hand out to her. "Welcome home, Agent Carter."

For the first time since they crossed over from the other side, Darcy grinned as she watched Margaret finally take a breath and relax.

**Later**

Steve was on the rooftop patio Tony had renovated for Jane before she agreed to move over from London, stretched out in the sunlight on one of the lounge chairs as he sketched the New York City skyline across the oversized book on his lap.

After a while, he heard the glass door from the sunroom swing open, and looked up in time to see Margaret inch her way into the warm spring day wearing a red blouse and dark wash jeans from a recent shopping trip with Natasha, who took to the story of her arrival and James' circumstances with barely a flinch, "Hi there."

She nodded once as she stepped out, and after a minute of silence, she cleared her throat, "Steven?"

He resisted the urge to sigh as he set the drawing pad aside.

At least it was an improvement from being called _Captain _all the time.

"Yes?"

Margaret was clutching her new cell phone—courtesy of Tony, who was more than happy to bankroll Sharon Carter's long-lost cousin until she found her feet—in a near death-grip, "Could you explain something about phones to me?"

"I'm not that much further along than you, but I can try."

Favoring the phone with a quizzical look, she held it out to him, "Do you think you could explain to me why people seem to think that, what's it called, oh, _selfies_, are so important to modern society?"

With a laugh, Steve nodded and took the phone from her outstretched hand, "I'm not sure I can explain it, but I can show you?"

"Um, sure," Margaret nodded as she stepped up next to him and watched as he flicked the phone off the lock screen and accessed the camera app.

Inside the solarium, standing just in front of the elevator doors, Darcy leaned closer to James' side, her fingers curled around the hand hanging against her shoulder, and they watched Steve take a selfie with Margaret, "This is weird, right? I mean, I'm right, yeah?"

"No weirder than you and me, doll," he kissed her forehead and then nudged her back around, pushing the down button with his hip. "We just need to help them stay happy."

She giggled mischievously, leaning up and pressing her lips against the corner of his mouth, "You and I? I think we got that more than covered."


End file.
